


Tied Up & Twisted (The Way I Like To Be)

by peachpit_gabe



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Rope Bondage, Sensual Play, Shibari, Subspace, sexy scone eating will be a thing one day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachpit_gabe/pseuds/peachpit_gabe
Summary: Simon gets worked up but Baz knows his favorite way to calm a troubled mind.The talented Kris had a birthday. He also let it slip he is a fan of rope bondage! Happy Birthday Kris (sorry I'm a little late) I hope you enjoy this little ficlet!
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 84





	Tied Up & Twisted (The Way I Like To Be)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KrisRix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisRix/gifts).



> Thank you to my favorite grammar goddess Pati (Aristocratic_Otter) for reminding me that I need to tell a story with some commas and in the right order of events happening. My brain is a scary place but she is always able to make my words make sense! A thanks to Locke (jenn_locke) for their beta-ing as well!
> 
> Feel free to follow me on tumblr at peachpit-gabe!

**Simon**

I like when he ties me up. Shibari, he calls it. When he does it, I feel safe. He’s not touching me directly; it’s more like he fills the rope with love and lays it gently onto my skin. It still takes a lot for me to be comfortable with direct touch, but with the rope I feel special, protected, and taken care of. 

It’s not all about sex though. I mean yes, there are times he ties my forearms to my calves and fucks me until I see stars. Or there are times that he ties me to a kitchen chair and rides me until I forget my name. I love those times. Right now it seems to be one of the more tame sessions. He’s behind me on the couch, still in his posh suit from dinner; his hands move deftly through knots and pull the ropes snug on my bare chest. This is about my mind right now. This isn’t about getting off at the moment, this is about calming the bad thoughts away.

When we returned home to our shared apartment (which has been a big deal for both of us) I was planning to make scones. Halfway through I started feeling flushed and angry. Angry that I can’t be better about being out in public with him more. Flushed because I can’t stay out long enough for us to have pudding without fear of a panic attack or my wings coming out. My shirt was too tight and the air was too hot.

“I can see the stress coming out of your ears, Simon. Do you need to take a break?” he asked me.

I think that being out in public in nice clothes still gives me anxiety, because I felt like I was going to explode, but Baz likes dates and I wanted to do this for him. I sighed and nodded, looking back at him to see his grey eyes sparkling. Ah... _ that _ type of relaxing.

He had me strip down to my pants and wait for him on the couch while he grabbed what he needed from our bedroom. Here we are now, his cool hands snaking around my waist so delicately it’s almost criminal.

He’s working down around my pelvis now. I’m hard, mostly because being touched like this would make anyone a bit randy (in my opinion) but, I’m also at peace. I smell the sour cherries getting more fragrant by the minute and Baz promised to take them out exactly when the timer went off. 

His hands move over the swell of my ass, I let out a gasp, more needy than I mean it to, and he brings the rope up my back to finish the harness. He’s begun kissing my neck, where his favorite cluster of moles lives, and I’m panting softly. 

“Thank you, Baz.” I whisper.

He knows. He knows that I’m saying “thank you for being here for me” and “thank you for loving me in a way that makes me feel safe.” Most importantly he knows I’m saying  _ I love you,  _ in my own way.

He hums against my skin and kisses me once more while he tugs his final knot snug. 

“You’re welcome, love.” he smiles at me. The timer dings. “Perfect timing.” he muses.

Baz sets me back against the couch and hurries over to the oven. I hear shuffling of drawers as he grabs the oven mitts and opens the oven. The smell washes over me and I close my eyes and inhale. I already feel so much better. The tray gently taps onto the stovetop and I hear Baz’s footsteps returning. I don’t open my eyes until a small tug at my curls alerts me.

“Well, Snow. I was planning on feeding you a scone while you’re like this, but they need a little while to cool off.” He’s smirking down at me. “Care to put something else in your mouth while we wait?”

I grin up at him. 

“Absolutely,” I say, “ I’m starving for it, actually.” 

Sure, it’s not always about sex...but it’s incredible when it is.

  
  



End file.
